


sensitive dependence on initial conditions

by openended



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openended/pseuds/openended
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>from HP Fanfiction Prompts: <i>206. Unbeknownst to the rest of the family, Narcissa reaches out to Andromeda after Lucius’ arrest.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	sensitive dependence on initial conditions

The house is empty.

It’s not empty in the way that it’s usually empty on a fall morning, with the whispers of breakfast conversations lingering in the walls, promising return come nightfall. It is, simply, empty. She hears echoes of those conversations in every hall, around every corner, in every room. Voices, oscillating between anger and love, without distinct words.

Narcissa wonders if she might not be going mad.

The Dark Lord has forgotten about her for now, and she’s never been so thankful to be left out. She destroyed the listening spells on the mirrors while the house elves took inventory and brought to her anything that was not meant to be in the Manor. When she flipped the final portrait to face the wall on the third day of manic cleaning, she deemed the house cleared of his influence.

The whispers grow louder as the Daily Prophet becomes more terrifying. She keeps up appearances, tea and lunch with friends, and the façade is easy to maintain around them: wives of imprisoned Death Eaters, all. The corner table in Rosa Lee’s provides an easy and devastating target for the Order, though they prove not to be quite that reckless. She stops at Sugarplum’s every week to pick up sweets for Draco, whose letters home become increasingly disjointed. His name is smudged on his latest, though even in his most trying moments his handwriting is impeccable. 

Hell presses on the back of her neck, eagerly waiting to break loose. She turns on the radio and finds a station determined to play quiet music without any mention of the brewing unrest; she charms it to play throughout the Manor, but it doesn’t fully drown the whispers she’s beginning to believe are real.

Malfoy Manor was not built to be empty. 

One of the house elves brings her a small parcel, light and wrapped in fabric, tied with twine. He doesn’t recall seeing it before, he explains, and is very sorry for the delay in bringing it and will gladly accept any punishment his lady deems fit. She knows the contents of the parcel as soon as her fingertips touch the smooth fabric and dismisses the elf without punishment. The parcel belongs in the Manor as much as she does.

She sets aside the letter she had been writing and carefully unties the twine. She remembers wrapping the light small package years ago, intentionally choosing the most inconspicuous fabric and string. She hasn’t seen the contents since that day and is surprised everything remained intact, just as she remembers. Andromeda charmed her letters near the end, part out of fear and, Narcissa assumes, part out of spite. The first time the parchment burst into flame, she’d dropped it on the carpet in shock, leaving a singe mark now covered by a heavy desk. She learned.

It’s deep night and long past dinner when she finally finishes reading all of Andromeda’s old letters. She wipes the moisture from her cheeks, remembering why she’d left the letters alone in a chest for all these years. Burning someone from a tapestry is easy. Hearts are more difficult.

If she’d eaten dinner, she might not have found a clean piece of parchment. If she’d gone to sleep when the clock struck eleven, she might not have dipped her quill in the ink. If the house weren’t empty, she might not have begun writing.

_Dearest Andromeda._

The whispers quiet until all she hears is the scratch of quill on parchment.


End file.
